


The Lion still has Claws

by AnnaCipactli12



Series: Hearts Beneath the Ocean [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crossover, F/M, Major AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaCipactli12/pseuds/AnnaCipactli12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Major AU and Canon Divergence. After Jaime Lannister has made peace, he receives a letter from his daughter-in-law in England. What he finds reawakens his old fears and he can't help but wonder if the past will be repeated again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion still has Claws

**Author's Note:**

> In the first part I had the character who played Tommen in the beginning but for the current Tommen I chose Dan Stevens who looks like he could be an older version of him, and pass as Jaime's son.  
> This one shot will be alternating from Jaime's POV to third person POV and vice-verse.

_"I never new daylight could be so violent  
_ a revelation _in the light of day_  
_You can't choose what stays_  
_and what fades away_  
_And I'd do anything to make you stay_  
_..._  
_You want a revelation,_  
_You want to get back_  
_but it's a conversation_  
_I just can't have tonight_  
_You want a revelation_  
_some kind of resolution."_  
~ **No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machine**

Their laughter was unbearable. Arya Stark of Winterfell, Lady of the Guard, standing next to her sister, Sansa of House Stark, Queen of the North, ruling companion of Jon Targaryen, First of his name of Winterfell.

I would have never expected them to survive this long -or rule. Certainly, their survival had been thanks to their mutual dependence. Sansa was a girl who knew she would never survive without the help of stronger people like her sister and cousin, and they knew they would never survive the dangerous game of politics without her. She had an understanding they didn’t.

I fought, I lost. My dynasty was dead except for my brother but he didn’t count. He had abandoned our sigil for a new one. A crippled and smaller golden lion surrounded by a field of green and red, signifying a new beginning and the blood that was spilled to get there.

 _If only Cersei can see me now. What would she say?_ I open a letter from my daughter in law. Mary Tudor asks for my help. She and Tommen haven’t been getting along and she doesn’t know how else to turn to.

What can I do for the young woman? She is like Cersei, forced to marry someone she never loved but whom she hoped would make her life better.

I sighed and excuse myself from the table. The eldest Stark tells me I must be back for the second course when the ‘Tale of Cersei’s cunt’ will be told through song one of her new singers. “It will be one you are familiar with Lord Commander. It has your bastards.” I force myself to smile.

Once in my chambers I write a letter. I can’t help this young woman. I don’t know who my son is anymore. He is a stranger to me as much as it is to her. She sends another raven weeks later, begging me to help.

She is so needy. What does she expect me to do? Fly. She should ask one of the Stark girls. They are not exactly happy. I know for certain the younger Stark girl isn’t. I can still hear her laughter as the actress playing my Cersei is fucked over and over again by me and everyone else in the crowd follows her lead and clap while the oldest sister delights in seeing me suffer.

God save us from the monstrous reign of women. Someone should write something about how hot-blooded women were when it came to revenge. Men sorted it out by punching the living daylights of each other. They didn’t have to resort to plots and games within games. _Except Littlefinger_. That cunt played with us all and we were too busy killing each other to see it.

“Boy, what is your name? Ser Kevin, Lancel, Arthur?” _Please don’t let it be Kevan_. He shakes his head and says “Andrew, m’lord.”

“It is my lord not m’lord. You are in the Night’s Watch, not some brothel. Can you write?” He nodded. “Good, take out quill and start writing what I say.”

When the Lady Mary’s reply came, she wasn’t pleased. _Tommen is with another_ , she said. _This time one that reminds him of Margaery._ I had enough of this. I left one of the lesser lieutenants in charge, someone with no ambition who would follow my instructions.

England was a livelier court from what I remembered. People were buzzing with excitement as the King’s Princes came and took a seat next to their father and stepmother. Next to them, was their younger sister, the lady Elizabeth who sat in between them and her niece and nephews.

* * *

 

It was the first time that Jaime got to see his grandchildren. He had a miniature of them inside a locket that Mary had sent him five years ago but he had never opened it. Part of being in the Night’s Watch was having no attachments and the last thing he needed was people talking about how sentimental he was.  
It was being sentimental that got him where he was in the first place.

* * *

 

I greeted the high lords, the old and the self-made until I reached the dais and gave my respects to the King and Queen. “Ser Jaime, glad you could join us. You have much to tell us, your adventures are legendary.”

“I am not much of a story-teller but I will do my best not to disappoint your Majesties.” I say and sit next to the King. When the festivities end, I ask the King for my son but he tells me that he is indisposed and gestures to my granddaughter below. The boys are like crows, waiting their turn to pick at her, and have a taste of royal flesh.

“She is rather beautiful isn’t she? Not like her mother. Mary always hated these things. She was always asking my ambassadors, whom do you serve? I am the Princess, you have to bow to me first because my father is the King. Then she would order my musicians to play louder so she could hear because ‘I have weak little ears.’ It is a shame, she has the heart of a warrior and were it not for her gender, she would make a fine King.”

 _Finer than you_ , I think. I watch as my granddaughter turns every one of them away, choosing her older uncle, Prince Edward, instead.

“Mary of Guise is convinced that Francis’ grandson will make a fine husband for her. She certainly has the looks. Dark auburn hair, fair skin; she is a credit to all my Plantagenet ancestors.”

And mine. I point out she has the Lannister looks as well. “If it weren’t for her hair, she would pass up as a Lannister.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t. The last thing my kingdom needs is another proud, know-it-all wife who will leave her husband’s realm in ruins.”

“If you are talking about my sister-“

“That is exactly who I am talking about, although her grandmother crossed my mind as well. Just as her mother, she wanted to control every aspect of my life but at least she had the decency to complain in private, her successor on the other hand, was the worst mistake I made in my life.”

“Perhaps it was the best.” I counter. “I see your sons excel in every subject and your youngest daughter is the light of your life as your oldest daughter once was. If it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t have them or your grandchildren.”

“You are a bold man Ser Jaime, but, the years haven’t made you smarter. Kathryn Tudor Lannister doesn’t take her mother’s last name because she is her husband’s superior; she takes my last name because of me. Because I am her grandfather, her guardian, her lord and master and I get to decide who she marries and who she looks like. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Enjoy the party, there are many women who’d like to spend the night with you afterwards. My advice is go for the blue eyed blonds, they give you the least trouble.”

“I made a vow.”

“That didn’t stop you before.” Henry VIII pointed out and left, taking the place of my granddaughter’s dance partner.

The laughter got louder, bringing me back to my earliest memories of Winterfell since I became Lord Commander and I got out of the room, pleading sickness. On my way, I overheard some of the boys talking about my granddaughter and her aunt, Lady Elizabeth Tudor.

“They are beautiful but I prefer the darker head. Darker heads are fancier, just look at her mother. Her husband treats her like shit and all she does is smile and put up with his mistresses.”

“I agree, to the darker heads.”

They raised their daggers and their wine goblets and chanted “The darker heads.” One added: “May we have our way before the King ships her off to bed some foreign prince.”

They clearly didn’t know where she comes from. I knew her from the space of a single conversation and already I can tell that she will become a force to reckon. I meant what I told the King. Kathryn would grow more beautiful but it wouldn’t be her Tudor looks that would stand out. She will be like my mother and her mother before her, with a silent intelligent and a beauty to match it.

_Not like Cersei, though._ My thoughts then lingered to my sister. Wherever she may be, heaven, hell, I know for a fact that if our lady mother hadn’t died, she wouldn’t have turned out the way she did. Kathryn Tudor-Lannister represented the dream my sister had.

He tells me then turns his attention to his wife who shows him his youngest daughter’s latest translation.

After their conversation ends, I head to my son. He is with his new whore. I recognize her as one of the ladies that greeted me when I entered Hampton Court Palace. Her name is Catherine something. She looks like Margaery from this light. I see now why my son chose her. Careful Tommen, you don’t know what you will unleash if you continue down this path.

“We need to talk.” Tommen nodded and told her to get out. She didn’t greet me, she just laughed at my angry expression.

She knows that I am no longer Ser Jaime Lannister, captain of the Kingsguard, heir to Casterly Rock. I am simply Lord Commander, an honorable position, but not as honorable as being a great lord.

“What do you think you are doing? Your wife sent me a letter telling me what you said and what you did to her following the birth of your last child.” Tommen turns his head away, I look closely, hoping to find some trace of shame or repentance but there is none.

“This isn’t you Tommen. Mary loves you. She was just as broken as you, she married you because she hoped you’d give her what her father never did. Family. Instead you’ve broken her even more. I never told you why your mother did the things she did.”

Tommen remained silent, he scowled as I spoke again. I ignored it and continued. “She loved you. She loved Joffrey and Myrcella more because they were her first children but she loved you nevertheless. When you eliminated trial by combat, she felt like she had been stabbed in the back. It is one thing to be mistreated by your enemies or threatened by an army of fanatics but her son? She lost it. She wanted to have you because she believed in Maggy's prophecy. I tried to talk her out of it but she told me it was the only way to keep you safe."

"So you are guilty too, then."

"I wasn't there when she blew up the Sept of Baelor and forced you to give up the crown. If I was, I would have prevented it. But I understand why she did it. Don't do this to your wife, she deserves more. You deserve more. You need to trust each other."

"I don't love her." Tommen told me.

"That doesn't matter. You love your children, do it for them."

"Like I said it is too late for us. If that is why you came, you should have stayed at Castle Black. Mary and I are a dead couple; whatever good was left in me died when my mother blew up the Sept and killed my pregnant wife."

I blinked. Pregnant? Tommen smiled a sad smile and told me how he and Margaery agreed on keeping it a secret. "We were going to announce it after the trial. I was going to name him Tywin Jaime after you and grandfather. We were so sure it was a boy. We started discussing all kinds of names for his little brother. Margaery was still unsure about our future, it took a lot of convincing from me and the High Septon so she could forgive me and resume our marital duties. The last thing I said to her before she died was 'I love you' and 'We will have as many children as there are houses in the realm'." A tear fell down his eye. I didn't see the twenty nine year old whom Mary had described in her letter as her abuser but a child, alone in the world and in need of comfort. That image soon disappeared with his next words. "When Mary gave birth to our first child, it was like a dream. I pinched myself, hoping that I would wake up and find that everything had been some cruel joke but the baby's wailing made me realize that it was all real. I lost everything, including myself. I have nothing left."

“No.” I say firmly. “It is not all lost. I can see it in your eyes. You loved Margaery, you wouldn’t be treating Mary the way you’re treating her if you still didn’t cling to hope.”

“Clinging to hope got my wife killed.” Tommen says. His eyes shone with the same ferocity of my father when he spoke. He got up and put on his leather pants and robe. “Every time I look at her portrait I am reminded of the future we could have had and every time I wake up to the same wretched shrew.”

“Don’t do this. You don’t have to torture yourself like this. Margaery would not want you and much less your mother.”

He laughs. “My mother? My mother was a disgusting, incestuous whore who threw me to the wolves every chance she got because I wasn’t like her precious Joffrey. If she didn’t arrive in time, I would have jumped from the highest window of the Red Keep and I would have made sure everyone watched so they could’ve known what a monster she was!”

“They did know. Your actions and your careless disregard for our advice cost you your throne, her throne and everyone you loved, their lives.”

“You are going to play mind games with me now uncle Jaime, or is it father? I did have a father and as far as I can tell, he knew how to keep his bitches in line.”

I punched him. “You disgusting little cunt. Your mother would have burned herself to keep the sun from hitting you if she could. Everything she did was because of you. When she claimed the Iron Throne it was for you. She went through absolute hell and other horrors you can’t possible imagine. And this is what she gets in return?” Was this everything that remained of the proud Lannister legacy? My brother, the dwarf, and this  … this … shameless coward?

He smirked, wiping the blood from his nose. “Blood of my blood.” He said mockingly. “You know I learned a new trick once I started bedding better whores than that one. Some of the French ones are enticing, they know secrets that shouldn’t be kept secret but good lord do they love to talk. One of them has a father who visited the Wall and she tells me that all you do is give commands. Apparently you have eyes for nothing else but your papers and your sub-commander. One can almost infer you’ve given up women for boys. Or sisters because that is all you cared about, fucking your sister.”

I squeeze my fist.

“That woman I was with, is working for Cranmer, the Queen and her faction. I don’t care because she gives me what I want and I give them what I want.”

“Which is?”

“My loyalty. I keep the new ways alive in my household and my Catholic dog in line. If my mother had listened to me Daenerys would have never crossed the narrow sea. She had her army of zealots, we had our army of zealots. I had it all worked out, I would walk in my mother’s stead if she was declared guilty and she would be completely guiltless. The Lannisters would be remembered for centuries to come.”

“Except that the High Sparrow did force your mother to walk barefoot, naked. Where was your grand plan then? I agree with you. Joffrey was a monster but he would have never allowed your mother to suffer that humiliation.”

“She brought it on herself. If she had not screwed around with cousin Lancel, no one would have known. There is a new preacher in Scotland who has big plans for the Queen of Scots and her mother. He preaches abstinence and obedience on the side of women. He is a wise man whose teachings are spreading like wildfire among the lower classes and the new men. It won’t be long before he comes here looking for asylum and when that comes, I will convince my father-in-law to give him to me so he can be my new wife’s chaplain.”

“You unimaginable little bastard. You want to punish your wife for something she is completely guiltless of. If you had never trusted the High Sparrow or listened to Margaery’s lies-“

“She never lied!”

“Your wife would have never died and we would all be where we were supposed to be. My father believed that you would be the King that would bring prosperity to Westeros. You were weak Tommen and now you are even weaker trusting these people and for what? Do you think you will ever be safe with them? They just married her to you so they could humiliate her. You said it yourself, she is a woman in their eyes and a Catholic at that. Parliament declared her a bastard born of incest, they were hoping you would prove Cranmer’s theory that someone born of sin can’t have children but since that didn’t happen they turned the tables painting your marriage as some form of charity. ‘Even the sinner must be granted charity’.” I say, using the exact same words Foxe wrote in one of his many pamphlets. “You said it yourself son, I have been busy immersing myself in state affairs, especially those pertaining to the outside world and more so those involving what remains of my family.  
Once she stops having children, they will do away with you two and raise the children the way they want and turn them into perfect zealots to spread their message by any means necessary. Sounds familiar? Because it should. Do not let them get corrupted the way you got corrupted. Do not push them into the arms of zealots. They are the only things that are left of our family that are worth saving.”

“You are a soft talker. But truth be told, I don’t care much for speeches. In any case, the die has already been cast. When I am gone, my wife will be utterly alone and they will tear her to pieces. And when they finish with her, the only people left alive to pick up those pieces will be our children and thankfully they won’t because they, as much as everyone else, don’t want to cast their lot with a shameless whore.” Tommen smiled sardonically. “Didn’t you know? It has been the talk of London. She has been caught walking the streets of London with the Duke of Bavaria. Even the dullest of people can see there is something there.”

“That is a lie.”

“Ask her yourself, she will confess to feeling something for him. I asked her and she shamelessly told me ‘he is more of a man than you.’”

“That is not a confession of adultery as much as it is a confession of something very obvious. You can’t let people talk on the basis of a simple conversation. Rhaegar Targaryen flirted with many girls before he married Elia Martell, it never meant anything.”

“This is different. The Duke has prolonged his stay which can only mean one thing. They intend to run away.” Tommen says.

“Even if that were true, where would she go? She is a pariah in her country, she will be turning into a greater pariah in Germany where the other ruling Dukes, Counts and Kings are constantly at war with each other and her cousin.”

“It is an enticing prospect though, isn’t it? Running away with someone you love and then dying next to the man you love. I bet they would make a song for those two. The Duke and the Rose without Shame. It’d be a ballad I could dance to endlessly.” He says laughing coldly. “You’ve come a long way for nothing father.”

“Perhaps but it is a worth a try. Mark my words Tommen, if you push your wife to the edge, it won’t be her who suffers the consequences.” He snorts. I approach him and whisper in his ear “Remember your mother. She was pushed to the edge and became merciless.”

“Mary is not my lady mother.”

“No, you are right. She is much worse.” I tell him then turn to leave. “You can call your whore back if you wish.” I say lastly.

As I head back to my room, I hear the Lady Mary and the Duke of Bavaria. I briefly turn. There is nothing intimate going on between those two. People were stupid to believe these rumors. Nonetheless, something was going on. I could tell by their lingering looks and their warm laughter which they didn’t share with anyone else. Before they said their goodbyes, she turns to me and smiles. It is not a forced smile, or a crafty, it is a knowing smile. The sort of smile that I recognized in my sister and the mad King when they were about to send someone to their deaths.

 _Burn them all! I will burn cities to the ground before I let that happen!_ Mary Tudor’s eyes also reflected the flames of madness and ambition.

She nodded at me, I nodded back then we headed to our respective chambers.

 _Tommen you fool._ She was going to unleash hell on the British Isles and unlike my sister, there would be no one strong enough to stop her. Someone had written that history repeated itself, first as a blunder and then as a farce. The Song of Ice and Fire was a popular song heard throughout the Seven Kingdoms and Europe. I wondered what type of song would be sang for Mary Tudor and her descendants.

Would she be remembered as the Mad Queen of England? The would-be-Queen like her ancestress Matilda? Or, would she be hailed as a savior like her grandfather, the first Henry Tudor?

I didn’t believe in the gods but for the first time in decades, I found myself praying to them. I asked them to give my son guidance so he could learn to love his wife, or, at least treat her with the respect she deserved. But most of all, I asked them for mercy. My grandchildren had inherited the same golden looks like everyone else in my family, except for Kathryn who had inherited the dark auburn hair color from her mother. They did not deserve to be used the way Cersei, Tyrion and I were used. If their parents weren’t going to be saved, at least they should.

* * *

 

Jaime blew out the candles and slipped into the soft covers of his bed. Before his sister had died, she screamed ‘I will burn everything until there is nothing left for her to rule’. He recognized the madness in her eyes. It was the same madness that had come out of the mad king’s mouth before Jaime killed him.

If the Dragon Queen had not arrived, Jaime would have done the deed. In the past decade he had gained a good reputation as the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, keeping the borders safe and recruiting as many good members as he could find. Rumors arose that he also recruited women. He confirmed these rumors when he showed some of these female fighters to the Dragon Queen who looked at them with approval, pledging she would send some of the strongest men and women from the Red Keep’s cells.

Jaime did not need anyone’s charity but he thanked her nonetheless. After five years of being in charge, he stopped writing about his sister. His journals were cast into the fire. It was no use dwelling in the past. What happened, happened. Nobody was going to change that. And besides, Samwell Tarly, one of the greatest Maesters in the Citadel, had been tasked by Jon Targaryen of Winterfell, to write the song of Ice and Fire which retold the history of Westeros and the new rulers from their point of view.  
In it, Jaime barely appeared. When he did, he was Cersei’s boy toy, and his father’s tool. Cersei and the Night’s King were the clear villains, two evils that needed to be destroyed by any means.  
When one of his daughter-in-law’s men arrived to Winterfell, he had sought him. King Jon and Queen Sansa granted him safe passage to Castle Black where he found Jaime in his study writing dispatches to one of the new forts the Night’s Watch had built near Winterfell. He had given Jaime a locket. Jaime was about to toss it into the fire when curiosity got the best of him and he looked at the locket. The words ‘Hear us Roar’ were inscribed in Latin on top of a lion with a crown and the Tudor rose which branches had steel ruby thorns.

He never opened the locket until now. The moonlight helped him see what was inside: Mary, Tommen, their oldest son William, and the twins, Jasper and Kathryn. Tommen looked happy, holding his youngest son in his arms, while Mary, pregnant with John, looked lovingly at her daughter with a hand placed on her oldest son’s shoulder.

Jaime made up his mind.  
He was not going to run away again. After he returned to Castle Black, he sent a raven to his younger brother who was Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock, and asked him to keep an eye on his daughter-in-law and Tommen. He was not going to let history repeat itself again.


End file.
